Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Amit Parmessur
Elisavietta Ritchie
Donal Mahoney
Fahredin Shehu
Richard Kostelanetz
Alex Ferde
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Duane Locke
Chris Lord
Nahshon Cook
Al Ortelani
Shutta Crum
Ajibola Tolase
Silvia Scheibli
Laszlo Slomovits
Emmanuel Samson
Lyn Lifshin
Running Cub
Nikita Parik

Alan Britt
John Grey
Bhisma Upreti
Paul B. Roth
Jennifer Burd
Sunday Michael
Michael H. Brownstein
Burd
Ali Znaidi

Richard Gartee
Kanev Peycho

Engjell I. Berisha

Fred Wolven
Petraq Risto
Carolyn Elias
Alabi Oyedeji



 

 


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2015 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
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AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 47 years all together....

------------------------------------------------

 

staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
 

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net

 

A POEM AFTER ROETHKE’S ROSE

When crossing through
the open meadow-like field
in its being populated
with wild flowers
especially Queen Anne’s Lace
their carrot like roots
strengthening their stand
in the early summer Midwestern winds,
and their mini hot air balloon shape
canopy opening like parachutes,
here and there the delicate
Indian Pipe, more difficult in spotting
its bent over pipes resembling
cranes in feeding times, and further along
the occasional Trillium,
its large bright white petals
often earlier being a harbinger of spring
in Michigan acres.

It’s no wonder I can spend
the whole morning or afternoon
meandering slowly around
in such acreage as this
not far removed from Roethke’s
childhood haunts nearby
his boyhood home.  Oh,
to have been his sidekick
during those young growing years
how much more I might
have learned up close and personal
of nature’s unending wonders
of such a magnificent nurturing cycle
spread wide as the eye might see.

And then too, when venturing
over next to the close by woodlot’s
meadow entering brook
zigzagging across my path
here and yonder
giving a child such as Theodore
and I another whole universe
for exploration right under
our noses so to speak
how much more amazing
an opportunity might a youngster have
to undercover the merits of spring
and summer days amid such splendor
such awe-striking wildflowers
and their artist splashed colors
and also able to visit the tiny creatures and critters
in, on and alongside the stream’s
slow moving waters—
the spider movement of water bugs,
the dart, sudden stop, wiggling
of minnows, tadpoles stirring in side ponds,
and above the multiple butterflies,
and the bees and wasps alighting
to suckle the sweet nectar of flowering plants.
And less I forget is my occasional discovery
of the wild, prairie rose with its rose pink
petals peopling some roadside ditches
and their banks come along now into my view.

How could one not be struck
by such beauty so strong as almost
over-powering in its presence near me.
Such is the like of this common awe-striking
spectacle confronting me in these my learning years.

 

Fred Wolven, Southeast Florida


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